Thank You
by xClahx
Summary: There's a way for Dean to get rid of the Mark. Castiel never explained exactly how, but it was not necessary. He would do it anyway.


**Thank You**

I have thousands of years and more. On heaven, Earth, hell, and even further galaxies.

Despite the greatest constructions and accomplishments of life that I testified, there's something, one single moment of my entire existence that profoundly changed me.

It might be an arrogant assumption to reduce myself into such a transient and minimal momentum.

Yet it's where everything began.

Were it truly began for me.

Because, and again I may sound haughty by saying this, in that instant I turned into something else. I changed. I doubt, I had the first thoughts of my own instead of simply watching the world as a silent witness that nods and accept what develops in front of my eyes, but can't touch through the mirror.

I have eons of experience, but wherever I think of when I had a faithfully epiphany of purpose, my mind always drag me towards the same place and time.

And it wasn't the brightest place or the most beautiful one.

It was rotten, and filthy. It smelled like carrion, digesting inside a giant stomach of pain, hurt; with bile and acid floating to one side another, hitting the corpses laying there to the mere pleasure of fun. In a abhorrent place like this yet I found what left me for brief seconds wordless.

I saw it. Shining among black figures, something that was corrupted, that had been touched by darkness, but somehow still fought to maintain sanity, to glow, focus on finding a way to resist the evil surrounding it, to not be sucked into the whole of nothing. It fought against the odds, where everyone else would've completely gave up by now, after so, so many years in the pit.

Oh, Dean.

I saw your soul before your body and I fell for it from the very first beginning.

It didn't occur to me at the time. No, I still haven't what I have today, what my brothers call weakness. I had much more to discover about these commotions that humans become so distinguished, as they are also diminished for.

I used to believe in that too, as the good soldier I was. To feel - regardless of how intrigued we were about these new beings our father have created - was something exclusively for them; to humans. We didn't need it.

Or better: we were taught we didn't need it.

Then my fate was entangled to you on the pit. And in every step I made according to my orders and beliefs, you shattered each and every single one of them, turning my mind into nothing but a pool of questions.

However for the first time in an eternal life I had the courage to seek for answers.

You told me, at so many occasions to 'shove up my ass' the divine plan. The arrogance and audacity it takes to tell this to a being like me. You should show me respect for I could throw you back to hell. But you didn't fear me, not with these threats, at least.

It was only the ones about your family and the world in general that scariest you the most. Your life wasn't import, but the others needed you, and so for fear of letting them down you listen to me, to us... Although in the end we, indeed, all have shoved _the end_ up on our asses. Because you didn't bow to fate. And that also amazed me.

To think you even still didn't have faith that you were supposed to be saved.

You never stopped to amaze me, Dean.

You changed my heart on the core of it. I had doubts and I sought for responses. I was free to run the world in search for them.

Of course, I have made my mistakes.

But we all have at some point, right Dean?

You tried to warn me so many times. I was foolish, I know that now, and I will never repent myself enough for what I did.

Despite that you knew it was your job to kill me, for what I had become, the moment you saw me gone on the waters you grabbed the only thing left of me. You clutched to it and hid it from your brother and Bobby, because they should never know how hard it was for you to see me gone.

I was there the whole time, Dean. Watching through the beast's eyes of my vessel. I saw you - that was the last memory I had for some time - your hands over the Trenchcoat.

Then it all became a blank for a while.

And so you found me, memoryless. I could see the dubious in your eyes. The sorrow; regret mixed in anger, rage. But you couldn't hate me, not completely.

You forgave me. How, Dean? How you manage to do it? Was it the same when Sam betrayed you?

I guess I understand your brother now, how sorry he must have felt, to have to look in your eyes knowing what he have done, carrying the weight of your words of forgiveness.

It hurt and burns more than the fires of the hell I pulled you from.

I wanted to stay there, you know. In purgatory, so I could finally repent. I run away from you. My legs made me go to the other side when I felt my heart wishing to run in the opposite direction – towards you.

I tried to let you go, but it was you who found me, Dean. You looked for me, you killed beasts. God, you even allied to one, all because of me.

I wish I had embraced you back there.

And so many times after that. I still want to.

I was back on Earth some time later, because my brothers had plans for me. You, again, encountered me with hesitation in your eyes. How I was there? You had no idea. Me neither, for a while. But I was happy to see under the misgivings in you that some greater part was pleased in having me back.

You blamed yourself for leaving me behind. I showed you the truth and we never talked about it again.

We should've had; chat without threats or accusations, to just sit and talk like old friends do, drinking cheap beer on a road bar.

I'll miss the brief ones we had, and I'll miss these conversations that never happened.

Have I ever told you about my nightmares after my grace were stole?

Those first nights of humanity surely were the most solitary and severe ones. I was alone, lost, hungry, thirst, without the voice of my brothers. Without you.

I had bad dreams on the first time I slept. I dreamed about the crypt. The weight of my fist hitting your face over and over again whilst I battled in my mind to regain control.

I killed you so many times in heaven. Copies of you, but still, each time a body fell I teared a piece of my heart. In the moment I saw you on the crypt and the order triggered I thought: it's a mere puppet sent here to confuse me once more.

I punched you, I hit you, I unleashed my wrath over you, I heard your curses and pleas.

But none of these copies ever said they needed me.

They condemned me, begged for mercy, called me nasty things all for the purpose of building a wall of fury in me.

You cracked that wall the moment you uttered those words with your afflicted voice, Dean.

I guess in the end the nightmare gave me seconds of joy; of course it was gone the moment I woke up on any place, but near you.

I learned in the wrong way of how to not trust anyone. I died in that room by a reaper's hand.

Contradicting all odds, just like previously, there you are finding me, saving me. How you do it Dean?

If it was me I could tell you I've followed the brightness of your soul. It's a romantic line, from these books or movies you don't appreciate. But, oh, Dean, how real it is for me.

The first moments of humanity, when I said nightmares scared me? No, it wasn't like that. Something else scared me uttermost, and that was not being able to see your soul.

I had to leave your side back on the Bunker, I understand why. Do not feel guilty about it. Sam is always your greatest weakness, so as you will forever be mine.

I wish I had time to say more. To make myself presentable and veracious to you in this very end.

Perhaps these words will never reach you. I'm shooting in the dark here, sending you a letter through my voice directly in your head, using my last forces. It's not enough to stop you or the blade coming in my direction, but it's enough for me to be finally free, to make you comprehend, Dean.

It was never a rebellion against order and angels, against destiny itself.

Oh, no Dean. It was a battle I was willing to fight for you.

Remember purgatory and the embrace? I can still fell your arms, strong and bold around me, your body pressed on mine. I wish I had embraced you back.

Can you embrace me, Dean? Will you embrace me again?

Please, it's all I ask in the end. One single embrace.

I don't mind it will come with a blow, that it will cease my existence.

Dean, I am yours and will always be.

So pick the blade. Come to me, hold on to me and pierce me with it, and in that moment, in that hold I shall be one with you. My blood on your hands, my grace on you once again, branded not in a hand mark, but carved in your soul, your beautiful soul that it never ceased to astonished me.

It will hurt, though, to not see you ever again, to not feel your presence beside me, to scope my mind to touch yours in secret, not enough to read it, but just for the joy of being connected to you at some level.

Dean, can you hear me?

It's okay. You can wake up now.

The blade is in here, stick near my heart.

My grace will flow through the wound and it will wrap around your soul. It will purify it, once and for all.

The stain from hell, these days in purgatory, the Mark. It will all be gone from you.

Of course, you will remember. Nothing is perfect. These painful memories will be something tormenting you, I'm aware of it.

Maybe if I had more time I'd heal you fully.

But, Dean, if I happen to dwell in your head later, even if it's with these painful memories, would you be sad if I tell this idea brings me peace and delight?

That I'll inhabit your mind…. I wish it was on others terms, yet I cannot block the thrill it sends to me.

It's sick and marvelous at the same time, don't you think? How two feelings can be as opposite as consuming?

Dean, wake up. It's done. The blade is far gone inside me. Didn't he warn you about it? Cain words were true, but you fought against it anyway. The power your soul lugs, it will never halt to surprise me.

Do not worry.

Don't fear. He was wrong about Sam. You don't have to kill him. It will be only me, Dean. He foretold this, but it will end with me; you don't have to kill anymore.

My fate was settled since the beginning. Not of my life, but of myself as me, from that day in the pit when I gripped your soul.

Wake up.

"…Cas?"

Hush, Dean. It's over.

I shall be yours forever in your soul, with my grace, with my heart, my angel heart that it's wholly and always yours.

Your voice is cracked; I hear it still reverberating on my ears. You feel sorry, but don't be. It was my choice, after all, this would never work without the consent of the ange that gives up the grace he possess for a human to cleanse him.

The blade is buried in me. The sharp teeth of it are dug deep inside. You've made it, Dean. The curse is over. Rejoin, for I am happy to have saved you once more.

Remember the embrace, Dean? I can feel you holding me tight right now. There's just a few seconds before my existence is ended, but I can feel it with all of my being.

This vessel was my home for so long. It's strange to leave it knowing there's no return.

Please, Dean, comprehend.

I am yours; it was of my free will to do it. You were driven mad by it, you were going insane and the last string maintaining you in place was your brother.

I know you can live without me, but you need Sam. So I'm happy with my choice – you heard me, Dean? My choice. You made me able to choose on my own, how I was going to die. Not by the purpose of an unjustified war, but for a bigger cause, for a grander sentiment. Thank you, Dean.

These words may never reach your mind. I'm weak now. I'm fading. However this is what I wanted to tell you, not for now, only, but for everything before and in between, the bad parts, the good parts. Thank you.

You're still embracing me Dean? With my grace dwindling while marking your soul?

I sense it going, leaving me. Your hands are clutching on me like you did on the Trenchcoat. You don't want to let me go, but I'll leave you anyway. It's for the best.

Your hands are warm over my skin, Dean. They're vanishing, though, the feeling together with me.

Still you don't let me go. You are holding me tight.

"Cas!..."

Have I ever told you how I loved the way you called me? No? Then thank you, Dean.

"Don't-Cas!"

Your voice sound wrecked… Your fingers lingering on me. There's something you want to tell me even now, Dean? What is it? What you're hiding? You were never good with words, huh? But your hands, your voice, all you do, every motion tells a story. For me you're an open book, Dean.

Is it raining in here?

Oh, Dean. I can barely feel it, but still there are these salty beads rolling over my face. I will cherish these tears you are giving to me, Dean. The taste of them on my lips. Can they be our kiss? I will imagine it is.

"Dammit, Cas!"

You are resting your head on my shoulder, pressing it against my neck. You hear me, don't you? My words, in your mind? These things we never talked about, because there's no time in our lives for sentiments.

You know about them?

You feel it?

Dean… You too?

Thank you.


End file.
